Normality
by demented cookies
Summary: In which Artemis ponders the advantages and disadvantages of being normal and whether or not he should or could be so. Rated T for brief use of *GASP!* the S-word! D:


Here is a brief little oneshot that just popped up in my mind one day. It also gave me an opportunity to really put my copy of "The Elements of Style" by Strunk and White to good use. Yay!

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**Normality**

The keys on Artemis Fowl's laptop clicked under his fingers like the raindrops falling on the window of his dorm room. His St. Bartleby's sweatshirt hung from the back of his chair. His face did not leave the screen, even when his typing was interrupted by one hand reaching up to brush a dry, raven lock from his face. He did not look up to check if the rain had stopped, if the weather had brightened, for that mattered to him little more than the hard gum under the desks in the science lab. He did not look up when there came a hesitant three knocks on his door, or when the door opened and two scared-looking teenage boys popped their heads in.

"What do you want?" Artemis said. "And make it quick."

The two other St. Bartleby's students—Joshua Van Amstel and Harris Endicott, from Artemis's math class—looked at each other, then Joshua said, "The other guys wanted to know if you would like to hang out in the game room with the rest of us. I don't know...play some ping pong, watch some T.V., play some air hockey..."

"Learn some social skills," Harris said under his breath.

Artemis's fingers kept typing, just as the rain on his window kept falling, but inside his mind was buzzing with unexpected excitement. These boys actually wanted him to go and, ahem, "hang out" with them? Is this what the other students did on their free time? If he went...that would mean delaying his letter to the writer of the essay on relativity (from _The Scientist's Friend_ magazine) about how his interpretation of it was utterly flawed. Delaying, and for what? Playing trivial games with other boys whose IQ's could not be higher than their grandparents' age. Talking with _normal_ boys. Talking, and laughing and joking.

The continuous stream of taps from his keyboard lost their consistency for a moment.

Finally, Artemis looked up. "Thank you," he said, "but no thanks. I have other matters to attend to. Quite a bit more important, I might add."

If the boys hadn't known ahead of time what his answer would be, their faces would have fallen. Instead they nodded understandably. "Fine," Joshua said.

The door almost closed, and Artemis almost sighed with relief (or regret?), but at the last moment, Harris said, "If you change your mind...we'll be in the ground floor game room. You know...if you want to come down."

"Thank you, Mr. Endicott," Artemis said. "I shall make note of that."

When the door closed, Artemis rolled his eyes. _Normal_ boys.

_Normal_ teenagers. With _normal_ friends, _normal_ parents, _normal_ lives. No three feet tall fairies, no criminal fathers, no death-defying adventures. Their biggest problem when they woke up in the morning was probably what to eat for breakfast, not whether a troll would eat _them_ for breakfast that day, or if they might just live another without a crazy pixie blowing them up. They probably went to the movies with their friends every weekend, the most important thing discussed being about the quality of the special effects, whether that part when the giant spaceship crashed into the Golden Gate Bridge was realistic or if it was a load of horse shit.

Oh, yes. And their _language!_

Perhaps the only thing abnormal about those otherwise ordinary boys was their bad habit of using the most vulgar terms in the most innocent of situations, such as stubbing their toes, or gum on the bottom of their shoes.

Or maybe...

Or maybe it _was_ normal. Maybe speaking like a highly educated individual was not.

Artemis remembered six months ago exactly. He had been at the mall to purchase a new book on string theory, which was the only reason he would ever set foot in that horrid place. He had walked out of the bookstore, and had felt time suddenly freeze as the scent of tulips on a damp spring morning hit him right in the nose and sent him reeling. She was his age, with eyes that sparkled like twin obsidian stones.

She had passed him with a smile, but her step did not falter. Artemis had watched as she paused by a group of St. Bartleby's boys who had whistled and asked whether she was single or not.

"Maybe," she had said with a smile. "Not like it's any of your business."

"To hell with it," one boy had said, taking her by the arm. "Let's go get some ice cream."

Back in the present, Artemis thought, Yes, maybe it is normal.

But who needed a normal life when it could be spent saving the world? If he'd had a normal life he would never have met Holly, or Foaly, or Mulch. The world could have been taken over by Opal Koboi by now. If he'd had a normal life he would have been with the other boys downstairs, having the kind of fun normal boys had.

Was a life of danger and adventure really worth it?

It was just a few months ago, after goblins had tried (and failed) to take over Haven again. Artemis had sat shotgun in a LEP aircraft, Holly driving. The wind battered against the front windshield like a sledgehammer.

"Artemis," Holly had said. "Do you ever wish you had never gotten mixed up, you know, with us? With the fairies?"

Artemis had not looked at her, instead choosing to gaze out the window. "That's an unusual question, Holly," Artemis said. "Why do you ask?"

"Well," Holly said, "not every human is mentally capable of enduring everything we've gone through together. Many humans would have had a nervous breakdown by now. So many humans would be satisfied with just waking up in the morning and knowing no one is expecting great things from them."

Artemis chuckled. "Are you expecting great things from me?"

Putting the ship on autopilot, Holly turned to face him. Leaning her elbow on the back of her seat, she said, "Great expectations are heavy, Artemis. If you disappoint...it could change your life."

"I know they're heavy, Holly," Artemis said. "How do you think I've gotten this far? As for changing my life, I doubt it. Disappointments happen. It's just another thing. Life goes on."

"You didn't answer my question."

For the first time, Artemis turned to look at her. Her eyes stared at him intensely, which made Artemis smile. "No," he said. "I've never wished I had never met the fairies."

Holly pulled the autopilot lever back up and turned her eyes back to the open sky before them. "I'm not joking, Artemis."

"I know," Artemis had said.

And he had known. He had not lied when he answered her. But was it normal? Instead of going to the movies with classmates he saved the world from goblin rebellions. Instead of getting ice cream and hitting on girls he used his intellectual abilities to fight evil pixies. He knew it was not normal.

But what was so special about normality anyway? If he was normal, there would be no one to help the fairies rid the world of evils like Opal Koboi, no one to keep the fairies secret in this age of rapidly improving technology, no one to—

Artemis's thoughts were interrupted by a buzzing in his palm. He looked down at his hand to find it was clenched in a fist. The fairy communicator that he wore as a ring on his middle finger buzzed into his hand.

"Hello, Holly," he said, holding his hand to his face like an imaginary phone.

"Artemis," Holly said. Though he couldn't see her face, he could hear her smile brightening her voice like a sunny day. "I don't usually call about things as trivial as this, but I wanted your opinion on something."

"My opinion on what?"

"I'm going out tonight with a few girl friends, a few colleagues of mine from LEP. Have some dinner, go to a movie, meet guys at the bar; just some fun stuff. Should I wear my heels or my flats to go with dark blue khakis and lavender halter-top?"

Artemis raised an eyebrow that Holly couldn't see. He considered telling her that either would work and that she shouldn't bother him with such trivial nonsense, or that she should wear neither and just stay home because it would just be a waste of time. But, though he couldn't really see her, he heard her bright, joyful face in his mind, he imagined her relief to be doing something that did not involve the fate of the world.

"Wear your heels," he said. "It's a special occasion."

Her grin broke through her voice. "Thanks, Artemis. I'll talk to you later."

The line went dead.

Artemis held the imaginary phone up to his ear for a while longer. The rain drummed on the windowpane, thoughts of normality and life jumped around in his head, and he just stared past the wall of his dorm room.

He thought about going to the movies, raving about special effects, getting ice cream, swearing and cursing and not giving a damn, hitting on girls at the mall, a certain girl who smelled like tulips on a damp spring morning, playing ping pong and air hockey.

He thought about Holly, Holly who could have a job, protect the world, and have fun with her friends. Holly who knew that carrying heavy expectations on your back could break it. Holly, who was probably quite a bit smarter than he was some of the time. Holly who, when she wasn't saving the world, could be normal.

He got up, his chair almost falling back on the fluffy carpet. He shut his computer, the sound of keys clicking long gone, but the patter of rain still present.

Leaving the dorm room was not as hard as he would have expected. If his mind wasn't filled to the brim with new thoughts, he would have expected his letter to the columnist in _The Scientist's Friend_ to pull him back to his chair. But he didn't even notice as his polished shoes tapped down the hall, into the elevator, to the ground floor game room.

The Bartleby's boys and visiting girls looked up when he came in. Artemis stood in the doorway, not sure what to do, wringing his hands. He could feel their staring eyes, see their open mouths. He felt like an actor on a stage, the spotlight in his face, forgetting his lines.

Then Harris Endicott clapped him on the back and invited him to a game of air hockey, and the girl who smelled like tulips on a damp spring morning smiled, and the thoughts of trying to be normal were washed away.

And he was just normal.

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If you liked it, please review! If not...review anyway to tell me what I need to fix. That would make EVERYBODY happy!

Also, I have just participated in National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) and my novel is up on the internet. I have a link on my profile if you want to check it out, which would be awesome!

-Cookies


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